Mechanical Michelangelo part 29
TWENTY NINE It Ain’t Close to Heaven
Blood stained Brian’s cheeks where he’d rubbed the silent tears away. Blood covered his hands and the scarf he clutched. He couldn’t stand to wash it off, to wash part of Justin away and watch it disappear down the plug hole.
The corridor was almost empty. A TV sat mutely in one corner, something for visitors to do when they weren’t allowed in with the patient.
That was how Mikey found him and it was the first time he’d ever seen Brian cry. Not when his father used to beat him and not when his father died had he shown so much emotion.
Mikey didn’t know what to say, or how to deal with this. Brian was usually so strong. He hovered slightly in front of him, taking in the horror of all the blood covering his best friend.
Eventually deciding to sit next to him he placed his hand on Brian’s knee. “How is he?”
Brian closed his eyes and the tears fell into the crease of his mouth and down his chin. “I don’t know.” His voice was rough and cracked in a few places, the way it does when it’s just too hard to speak.
“You should have called me here earlier, I could have helped…” Mikey shook his head then leaned in and pressed a kiss to Brian’s cheek. He didn’t know how he could help with this, but he would try now. Mikey tasted the slight metallic tang of Justin’s blood and resisted the urge to wipe it from his mouth, not wanting Brian to see him do it.
A man Mikey had never met ran towards them, and he couldn’t help hoping that he was just running past, to some other crisis, but he stopped in front of Brian, jerking him out of his trance, until Brian stood.
Green eyes stared widely at Brian, glistening with tears yet to fall. He pushed at Brian’s shoulders angrily, making Mikey stand suddenly, ready to jump to his defence.
“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” He pushed Brian again and Mikey moved closer, reaching out, and was unprepared for the change in action as the man, who was obviously Justin’s friend, pulled Brian into his arms and held on tightly.
What shocked Mikey even more was, Brian’s arms slowly curving around his shoulders and holding back.
Mikey felt uncomfortable, as if he should be the one comforting Brian, only he didn’t know how, couldn’t make that last move from a gentle touch to a tight, painful hug that showed he cared more than any words could. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he deserved it, he’d been a bastard to Justin, it was almost as if fate were getting back at him.
“I couldn’t stop it.” Brian’s words were muffled into the stranger’s shoulders.
Mikey hovered behind, feeling somewhat left out, and feeling guilty for feeling left out, this wasn’t about him and he had no right to feel jealous of the contact Brian was showing someone who was little more than stranger.
“It’s not your fault.” The man whispered back, mouth pressed to Brian’s ear.
The two men sat down, hands still gripping, as if their contact would give Justin strength to fight this. Mikey hoped it helped, couldn’t even understand how so much blood could have come from someone so small.
Mikey sat down opposite them and he watched them, united in their love for the twink that just wouldn’t go away, even when he did go away he was still there. For the first time he realised Brian had a life outside of their group of friends, he’d always thought it was less than what they had, but it was just as valid, meant just as much to him.
He tried not to think about it as growing apart, just growing up.
“This is Cam.” Brian said softly, breaking the silence, and suddenly Mikey didn’t feel left out anymore.
He gave Cam a sad smile. “Mikey.”
Another man walked down the corridor, steps slow and precise, Mikey looked towards him and knew this was another of Justin’s friends. Tattoos crawled up his arms making him look menacing, but he could see the pallor beneath the bright ink.
Brian looked up at him and the tears rolled down his cheeks again. “There was so much blood…” He looked down at the scarf clutched in one hand, the blood drying into a dark maroon.
“Has anyone called his mom?”
Brian shook his head, not taking his eyes away from the scarf.
“Isn’t she called automatically?” Mikey spoke up. He didn’t want the older man to blame Brian for anything.
Cam shook his head. “I’m his emergency contact.” Brian looked towards him, surprised. “Think he wanted his mom finding him if something happened on the streets?”
“Someone should call her. And Brian needs to get a change of clothes.”
“Bren…” Cam started.
“Justin’s mother can’t see him like that…” He pointed towards Brian, face covered in blood that refused to dry because of the tears that kept falling and the white of his tux splattered horrifyingly with Justin’s blood.
“I can’t-” Brian started and looked at Bren, seeing his eyes soften.
“It’s not going to make a difference to his recovery if you wash the blood away, or change into something else.”
Brian closed his eyes and Mikey was shocked at how well the older man seemed to know what Brian was thinking.
“Give this guy your key and he’ll get you a change of clothes.”
Mikey bristled at his words, but understood the need for different clothes, he couldn’t imagine what Jen would go through if she saw Brian, covered in her son’s blood. “I already have a key. I’ll try to get hold of his mom on the way, too.”
He pressed a kiss to Brian’s mouth and left the hospital, slightly relieved at having something to do.
***
Mikey came back, running at the heels of Jennifer Taylor.
“Shit, Mikey, you weren’t meant to bring her.” Cam stood up and took the pile of clothes from Mikey’s hand.
“I phoned her after leaving Brian’s loft, she insisted on coming with me.”
“What happened to my son? Where’s the doctor?”
Brian stood, eyes haunted by images of a baseball bat hitting flesh, his lover’s blood warming the cold cement. Jen’s eyes widened as she looked Brian up and down, and she would have stumbled if Bren hadn’t steadied him.
She put a hand to her mouth and sobbed. “What happened? Get me a doctor, I want to see my son!”
Brian licked at his dry lips. “They’re still operating. Something about draining the blood away from his brain.”
Jen sank into a chair, her hands shaking. “Drain blood away? Hasn’t he lost enough already?”
Bren squeezed her shoulder, trying to give her some kind of comfort, she was Justin’s mother after all and Justin loved her. “I’ll go find a doctor to talk to you.”
He came back minutes later with a doctor. “Mrs Taylor?” She stood, looking hopefully at the man who looked too young to be a surgeon.
Brian couldn’t look at them. He stared numbly at the TV until the images flickered into something familiar. His heart missed a beat and he slowly walked over to it, reaching up to turn the volume up.
“I’m sorry sir, that has to stay on mute.” The doctor called over Jen’s shoulders.
Brian didn’t listen, he watched wide eyed as the local news reporter turned and looked directly at him.
“…ictim of a hate crime? Justin Taylor is a minor celebrity among the tattoo circle, both here in Pittsburgh and in New York. After attending a school reunion one of his old classmates, who cannot be named for legal reasons, attacked him with a baseball bat. The ex-hustler who clawed his way from the streets to become a recognised Tattoo Artist is still in a critical condition...”
Blood roared in Brian’s ears, she had to be wrong. She just had to be. He turned to Cam, whose worried look confirmed it for him. “Tell me it’s not true.” He still had to ask, he could be wrong.
Cam shook his head, “how did you think we survived on the streets?”
“What did she mean? Justin hustle? No, he wouldn’t, he would have called me, come home. She’s lying.” Jen’s voice cracked and she let out a sob. “This is all your fault.” She accused Brian, pointing at him. “If you’d left my innocent, seventeen boy alone he wouldn’t be here. He’d be finishing college like the boy who hit him is.”
“If Brian had left him alone that night on Liberty Avenue he’d have probably ended up in more trouble a lot sooner.” Cam spoke up.
“What do you know? This isn’t any of your business.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Brian asked Cam, as if Jen’s outburst hadn’t happened.
“It wasn’t my story to tell-and it wasn’t hers,” he nodded towards the TV, “It’s not as if it’s a secret. Everyone who is in the business knows about the hustler turned tattooist, it’s one of the reasons he’s so popular.”
“Stop talking like that! As if being a prostitute is no big deal.” Jen’s voice rose and the receptionist looked over worryingly.
“It’s not, compared to what else could have happened out there it’s quite tame really. Doesn’t tonight tell you that?”
Blood stained Brian’s cheeks where he’d rubbed the silent tears away. Blood covered his hands and the scarf he clutched. He couldn’t stand to wash it off, to wash part of Justin away and watch it disappear down the plug hole.
The corridor was almost empty. A TV sat mutely in one corner, something for visitors to do when they weren’t allowed in with the patient.
That was how Mikey found him and it was the first time he’d ever seen Brian cry. Not when his father used to beat him and not when his father died had he shown so much emotion.
Mikey didn’t know what to say, or how to deal with this. Brian was usually so strong. He hovered slightly in front of him, taking in the horror of all the blood covering his best friend.
Eventually deciding to sit next to him he placed his hand on Brian’s knee. “How is he?”
Brian closed his eyes and the tears fell into the crease of his mouth and down his chin. “I don’t know.” His voice was rough and cracked in a few places, the way it does when it’s just too hard to speak.
“You should have called me here earlier, I could have helped…” Mikey shook his head then leaned in and pressed a kiss to Brian’s cheek. He didn’t know how he could help with this, but he would try now. Mikey tasted the slight metallic tang of Justin’s blood and resisted the urge to wipe it from his mouth, not wanting Brian to see him do it.
A man Mikey had never met ran towards them, and he couldn’t help hoping that he was just running past, to some other crisis, but he stopped in front of Brian, jerking him out of his trance, until Brian stood.
Green eyes stared widely at Brian, glistening with tears yet to fall. He pushed at Brian’s shoulders angrily, making Mikey stand suddenly, ready to jump to his defence.
“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” He pushed Brian again and Mikey moved closer, reaching out, and was unprepared for the change in action as the man, who was obviously Justin’s friend, pulled Brian into his arms and held on tightly.
What shocked Mikey even more was, Brian’s arms slowly curving around his shoulders and holding back.
Mikey felt uncomfortable, as if he should be the one comforting Brian, only he didn’t know how, couldn’t make that last move from a gentle touch to a tight, painful hug that showed he cared more than any words could. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he deserved it, he’d been a bastard to Justin, it was almost as if fate were getting back at him.
“I couldn’t stop it.” Brian’s words were muffled into the stranger’s shoulders.
Mikey hovered behind, feeling somewhat left out, and feeling guilty for feeling left out, this wasn’t about him and he had no right to feel jealous of the contact Brian was showing someone who was little more than stranger.
“It’s not your fault.” The man whispered back, mouth pressed to Brian’s ear.
The two men sat down, hands still gripping, as if their contact would give Justin strength to fight this. Mikey hoped it helped, couldn’t even understand how so much blood could have come from someone so small.
Mikey sat down opposite them and he watched them, united in their love for the twink that just wouldn’t go away, even when he did go away he was still there. For the first time he realised Brian had a life outside of their group of friends, he’d always thought it was less than what they had, but it was just as valid, meant just as much to him.
He tried not to think about it as growing apart, just growing up.
“This is Cam.” Brian said softly, breaking the silence, and suddenly Mikey didn’t feel left out anymore.
He gave Cam a sad smile. “Mikey.”
Another man walked down the corridor, steps slow and precise, Mikey looked towards him and knew this was another of Justin’s friends. Tattoos crawled up his arms making him look menacing, but he could see the pallor beneath the bright ink.
Brian looked up at him and the tears rolled down his cheeks again. “There was so much blood…” He looked down at the scarf clutched in one hand, the blood drying into a dark maroon.
“Has anyone called his mom?”
Brian shook his head, not taking his eyes away from the scarf.
“Isn’t she called automatically?” Mikey spoke up. He didn’t want the older man to blame Brian for anything.
Cam shook his head. “I’m his emergency contact.” Brian looked towards him, surprised. “Think he wanted his mom finding him if something happened on the streets?”
“Someone should call her. And Brian needs to get a change of clothes.”
“Bren…” Cam started.
“Justin’s mother can’t see him like that…” He pointed towards Brian, face covered in blood that refused to dry because of the tears that kept falling and the white of his tux splattered horrifyingly with Justin’s blood.
“I can’t-” Brian started and looked at Bren, seeing his eyes soften.
“It’s not going to make a difference to his recovery if you wash the blood away, or change into something else.”
Brian closed his eyes and Mikey was shocked at how well the older man seemed to know what Brian was thinking.
“Give this guy your key and he’ll get you a change of clothes.”
Mikey bristled at his words, but understood the need for different clothes, he couldn’t imagine what Jen would go through if she saw Brian, covered in her son’s blood. “I already have a key. I’ll try to get hold of his mom on the way, too.”
He pressed a kiss to Brian’s mouth and left the hospital, slightly relieved at having something to do.
***
Mikey came back, running at the heels of Jennifer Taylor.
“Shit, Mikey, you weren’t meant to bring her.” Cam stood up and took the pile of clothes from Mikey’s hand.
“I phoned her after leaving Brian’s loft, she insisted on coming with me.”
“What happened to my son? Where’s the doctor?”
Brian stood, eyes haunted by images of a baseball bat hitting flesh, his lover’s blood warming the cold cement. Jen’s eyes widened as she looked Brian up and down, and she would have stumbled if Bren hadn’t steadied him.
She put a hand to her mouth and sobbed. “What happened? Get me a doctor, I want to see my son!”
Brian licked at his dry lips. “They’re still operating. Something about draining the blood away from his brain.”
Jen sank into a chair, her hands shaking. “Drain blood away? Hasn’t he lost enough already?”
Bren squeezed her shoulder, trying to give her some kind of comfort, she was Justin’s mother after all and Justin loved her. “I’ll go find a doctor to talk to you.”
He came back minutes later with a doctor. “Mrs Taylor?” She stood, looking hopefully at the man who looked too young to be a surgeon.
Brian couldn’t look at them. He stared numbly at the TV until the images flickered into something familiar. His heart missed a beat and he slowly walked over to it, reaching up to turn the volume up.
“I’m sorry sir, that has to stay on mute.” The doctor called over Jen’s shoulders.
Brian didn’t listen, he watched wide eyed as the local news reporter turned and looked directly at him.
“…ictim of a hate crime? Justin Taylor is a minor celebrity among the tattoo circle, both here in Pittsburgh and in New York. After attending a school reunion one of his old classmates, who cannot be named for legal reasons, attacked him with a baseball bat. The ex-hustler who clawed his way from the streets to become a recognised Tattoo Artist is still in a critical condition...”
Blood roared in Brian’s ears, she had to be wrong. She just had to be. He turned to Cam, whose worried look confirmed it for him. “Tell me it’s not true.” He still had to ask, he could be wrong.
Cam shook his head, “how did you think we survived on the streets?”
“What did she mean? Justin hustle? No, he wouldn’t, he would have called me, come home. She’s lying.” Jen’s voice cracked and she let out a sob. “This is all your fault.” She accused Brian, pointing at him. “If you’d left my innocent, seventeen boy alone he wouldn’t be here. He’d be finishing college like the boy who hit him is.”
“If Brian had left him alone that night on Liberty Avenue he’d have probably ended up in more trouble a lot sooner.” Cam spoke up.
“What do you know? This isn’t any of your business.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Brian asked Cam, as if Jen’s outburst hadn’t happened.
“It wasn’t my story to tell-and it wasn’t hers,” he nodded towards the TV, “It’s not as if it’s a secret. Everyone who is in the business knows about the hustler turned tattooist, it’s one of the reasons he’s so popular.”
“Stop talking like that! As if being a prostitute is no big deal.” Jen’s voice rose and the receptionist looked over worryingly.
“It’s not, compared to what else could have happened out there it’s quite tame really. Doesn’t tonight tell you that?”